


What I'm Good For

by mizsphinx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, F/M, Porn Without Plot, Prostitution, Slavery, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizsphinx/pseuds/mizsphinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius needed to learn that Hermione was not a good-for-nothing Mudblood and Hermione was all too eager to teach him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I'm Good For

**What I'm Good For**

Hermione luxuriated in her warm bubble bath. She lifted one long, water-glistened leg to smooth the loofah along her skin, and then paid similar attention to her next leg. She was highly aware that her three o'clock appointment was probably awaiting her, but she did not care. After all, she was the star in this business. If it wasn't for her, she doubted Camille would be as rich as she was now.

And what business was Hermione Jean Granger a star of? Well, ever since the death of Harry Potter, and Voldemort had assumed reign, things had taken a turn for the worse concerning Voldemort's non-followers. Many had found their lives either taken or hard to bear, especially for Muggle-borns. Especially for her. She'd suddenly found herself in a world that despised her existence and wanted her dead.

But Hermione was a survivor and survived she did. She was a smart witch too, and she had utilised this asset greatly. She'd sustained herself for nearly a year before evil had caught up to her. Sold out by another Muggle-born for food, Hermione had found herself captured and enslaved, and, before long, forced to work for her captors.

She released the plug for the bath then turned on the shower to wash away the soap suds from her body. When she was finished, she stepped onto the thick, blood red bathroom carpet, and turned to admire her wet, naked body in the bathroom's mirrored walls. She knew she looked good. It was just a ritual of hers to reaffirm this fact within herself.

Once she'd finished drying her body, she slipped on an emerald green, lacy camisole that left nothing to the imagination. She released her hair, tamed into loose curls, from its bind, and ran her fingers through it. It didn't bother her that they were still damp and limp from her shower for she knew, once she crossed onto the threshold of her servicing parlour, that charms were in place to amplify her beauty.

She glanced at the bathroom wall's clock – the only space that wasn't mirrored – and it read three twenty two.

_Time to get this show on the road._

Lucius Malfoy was most displeased. Punctual by nature, he'd arrived to his appointment at three o'clock on the dot, yet he'd been forced to wait an additional twenty minutes so far. He had been forewarned, but he despised tardiness, and was still irritated the same. When his business was over, no matter how enjoyable the experience may or may not be, he would make it his duty to lodge a complaint to Madame Camille.

_Damn you, Lestrange!_

He couldn't decide who he was angrier with, himself or Rodolphus Lestrange. He decided he'd place his vexation on Rodolphus' head, as he was the one who'd suggested he come here in the first place. And what a gaudy and vulgar place it was, too. Designed in heavy red and jarring gold, it was far too reminiscent of a certain Hogwarts' house colour he disliked. A four poster bed with thick auburn sheets and gold trimming stood sentry in the middle of the room. The carpet was deep enough to leave imprints, and was of the same colour as the sheets. There were no windows, so candles were the only source of light.

The room really was sparse, hardly any furniture besides the bed in the center of the room, a table and chair combination in the northern corner, and the lone loveseat in which he sat. Obviously, this room served only one purpose, and to emphasise this point, the roof had been replaced by mirrors.

 _How wonderful_ , he thought with heavy sarcasm as he glared at the mirrored roof. To think he'd even considered the place, let alone booked an appointment and _came_. And to think he'd even gone so far as to specify, under Rodolphus' enthusiastic recommendations, whom he'd like to service him.

Merlin, he really was getting old. No matter how tormented he'd been by his…feelings…of late, he needn't have come to such a shoddy place. He was Lucius Malfoy. He was absurdly wealthy and 'dangerously handsome', a la a Daily Prophet article written by one impudent Pansy Parkinson. He could have any—

The sound of a door opening and closing interrupted his train of thought. Light footsteps could be heard, and even though he knew he needn't do so, his Pureblood good manners forced him to stand to greet his company.

Astonishment superseded his curiosity when Hermione Granger came into view, wearing nothing but a scrap of see-through lace. It didn't take long before his surprise withered away, and anger and disgust took its place.

"You," he said coldly.

"Yes, me," she replied. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry I've kept you waiting."

"Obviously there has been a mistake," he said, thumping his cane once for emphasis. "Madame Camille knows I wouldn't even dream for my flesh to be defiled by the likes of you."

Her lips curved up in a smile. "You are the one mistaken, Mr. Malfoy. Madame Camille does not care for your preferences. She only cares about making her galleons."

He was fuming. "I did not request you."

She advanced one step forwards, dragging her index finger along the bed's surface. "I assure you, you did. Every new customer requests _Angel_."

He was positively livid now. He'd been hoodwinked twice, both by his comrade and a money-grubbing mistress. That sod, Lestrange, had demanded he try this 'Angel', and, upon making his appointment, Madame Camille had practically deified Angel's abilities. Curious, he'd gone along with their suggestions, but lo and behold, this Angel character had only been an alias for his son's archenemy and the most famous Muggle-born in the Wizarding world.

Glaring at her, he replied, "You are no angel."

Her smile was salacious as she walked towards him, her hips swaying provocatively, and Lucius Malfoy, inherently a man, was hard-pressed not to follow this action with interest before he reigned himself in.

"I may not be an angel, but I can certainly make you see heaven."

She licked her lips.

His cock twitched.

"Do you want to see heaven, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked softly as she flicked her tongue lightly on her upper lip once. "I'm _very_ good at what I do."

Lucius' voice failed him. He hated this girl and the blood that ran through her veins. He disliked the fact that she'd been named the 'brightest witch of her age', and had bested Draco in every turn academically. He loathed her for being the best friend of Harry Potter who'd taken so damn long to die. But this girl, this… _woman_ …was here, standing before him in very little clothing that showcased her exquisite body, telling him that she had the cure to his plague. His persistent and encompassing horniness.

He turned away from temptation. He would not allow base pleasures to override his principles and beliefs. She was a lowly, worthless Mudblood that wasn't worth his attention, let alone to touch his body. She would only sully his person with her dirty, dirty hands. He stepped back and away from her, scowling as he did so.

"I will rather abide in hellfire than allow you to touch me, Mudblood," he spat.

Within, Hermione quivered with hate and rage for this man that stood before her. He was one of the reasons why she suffered this fate. Because of his ridiculous Pureblood ideals, she'd been forced into a degrading position such as the one she now held: working in a massage parlour as a prostituting masseuse. If it wasn't for him, no doubt she'd have already achieved something great and beneficial to the world by now.

However, no matter her past relationship with her patrons, she was only allowed to show one face. A face of pleasure to serve and fulfill whatever desires these men had. She'd learnt that lesson the hard way, and when she'd learnt it, diligent as ever, she'd mastered the ability to go above and beyond their expectations. That was why she was the best. That was why she was the star. The _Angel_.

It was purported that her tongue made men get a glimpse of heaven, and this had made Hermione laugh bitterly when she was alone. Gone were the days when she was lauded for her brains and being the 'brightest witch of her age'. Now she was 'the greatest fuck of her kind'.

But she'd long grown out of the idea that she would be rescued from this place. She'd come to accept her fate, biding her time until her beauty was worn away, and Madame Camille would have no more use of her. In the meantime, however, she had work to do, and she had to do it on Lucius Malfoy if she wanted to have dinner tonight.

"Mr. Malfoy," she persisted in soft tones, "I understand your aversion, but you are the one who requested my services specifically. I have fulfilled my duty to be willing and ready, and now you must fulfill yours, or you may have a problem on your hands."

"You cannot force me!" he replied snidely. "I will suffer no more of your unpleasant presence, and shall take my leave immediately."

He turned his back on her and marched to the door, his cane's thumps muffled by the thick carpeting. However, when he'd arrived at the door and yanked on the knob, he found the door would not open.

"What is the meaning of this?" And he yanked harder to no avail.

"This," she said as she walked to where he stood, "is your aforementioned problem."

He turned on her, his eyes angry slits. "You conniving bitch. You've charmed the door, haven't you? Well, we shall see how strong your charm is, you good-for-nothing Mudblood." He produced his wand, whispered a few words, and then tapped the knob. But when he tried to pull the door, it still would not open.

From there on, he tried many different spells and possible curses, but his efforts were futile. Hermione allowed him to do as he wished because she found it funny, and she knew he would not listen to reason until he'd exhausted his own methods.

"Mr. Malfoy, your efforts are in vain," she said eventually in a matter-of-fact tone.

Scowling at her, he answered, "Obviously, as you've placed some sort of complex curse on this door. If you weren't what you were, I might have praised you."

"Your praises would have been misguided," she responded. "Madame Camille has cleverly placed, in all her contracts, a curse on every door that does not witness an act of intercourse. As per the contract between you and Madam Camille, the one you signed before arriving within my room, you will not be released until this room has accounted an actual session of coitus."

He regarded her silently, and Hermione took the time to do the same. Lucius Malfoy, despite his extraordinary hideousness within, had been blessed by the gods with physical beauty. He had a strong jaw, sensual lips, a slim nose, and his hair, well-kept as always, was light blond, long and fine. However, his most attractive yet most grotesque feature were his eyes – an overcast sky grey that changed its shades depending on his mood. It darkened when he was furious, and appeared light when he was contemplative, as he was now. But in those very same eyes she'd seen a world of hate and fury, a look that had rendered him sub-human.

"So I am to choose the lesser of the two evils. Either I stay here and endure your ugly face, or allow you to touch me with your disgusting hands."

"You know that I am not ugly," she smiled, "and I'm very sure you'll enjoy my hands, Lucius."

His anger was reignited. "Do not take such liberties with my name, Mudblood. Your lips are not worthy to speak it."

"Oh? Well, my lips may be worthy of something else," she licked her lips slowly, and allowed her gaze to travel downwards.

His eyes darkened with wrath. He turned, lifted his wand, and pointed it at her. "You are worthy of nothing but disgrace and death. You are worthless, Mudblood. _Worthless._ And I shall only be pleased to show you your place. _Crucio!_ "

But, alas, as with the door, his Unforgivable curse against Hermione was in vain. She only smiled wider, stepping closer to where he stood. He was dumbfounded that she was unhurt by his curse.

"Lucius, you really do underestimate Madame Camille's intelligence. She knows what the likes of you are capable of, and she has no wish for men like you to damage her means of acquiring gold. Your curses are futile against me. You cannot hurt me."

With a snarl, Lucius Malfoy threw his cane to the floor, and lunged at Hermione. He wrapped his long fingers around her neck, and began to squeeze hard. Eyes watering, Hermione tried yanking at his wrists to release his grip, but found his arms were like bands of steel. She grappled for oxygen but found none. Just when she'd become dizzy and was about to faint, Lucius' hands were flung away from her neck by an unknown force. _Of course, Madame Camille at her finest once more,_ thought Hermione bitterly as she coughed and gasped for air.

He lunged at her again, and this time Hermione was ready. She skipped out of his reach and ran around the bed. Like hunter chasing prey, he went after her, disregarding all his firm upbringing in decorum. When one of his vice-like grip encircled her left forearm, she began flinging herself wildly, using her other hand to beat him against his chest. He grabbed the offending arm, and playing their nearness to her advantage, she wiggled and squirmed, ensuring her body was rubbing up against his. If he wasn't going to accept her service willingly and allow her to get paid, she'll force his nether regions to make the decisions for him.

He forced her backwards against a wall and pressed his body against hers to prevent her squirming, and she smiled. _Oh Lucius,_ she thought, _you fell right into my trap._ His breathing was heavy but he still had the strength to squeeze her forearms tight in vexation.

"Curses may not hurt you but certainly—"

His words faltered when she arched her back, pushing her breasts flush against his chest. She spread her legs slightly and began to rub her sex against his left thigh. His eyes widened before he released her as though he'd been burned.

"You filthy, vile—"

"Oh, come off it, Lucius," she interrupted. "You want me."

He opened his mouth to deny it, but then she began to march forwards towards him. He walked backwards, unwilling for her to touch him lest he found himself enjoying it again. However, the back of his legs soon met resistance. The bed.

Her eyes glittered with mischief just before she pounced on him, tilting him over onto the bed on his back. He tried to push himself upwards but his reflexes were far too slow for Hermione. With a vixen smile, she whispered, " _Incarcerous._ "

Magical and invisible ropes grabbed his wrists and ankles, snapped him to the middle of the bed, and kept him bound. Astonishment and fury fought for supremacy on his features before fury won out.

"Thank you, Madame Camille, for being ever so wise to charm this bed of mine."

"Unhand me, you filthy Mudblood bitch!"

"I will do no such thing," she replied in honeyed tones as she crawled up onto the bed between his legs and began to unbutton his robes.

"Get your dirty hands off of me! Stop that!"

She smiled up at him as she smoothed away his unbuttoned robes and began to unlatch his belt.

"Mudblood, if you touch me, I swear on my wife's grave that you will be dead the moment my hands are freed."

She unclasped the bit that cinched the waist of his trousers, and began unbuttoning the buttons. When that was finished, she released his shirt and began unbuttoning that, too.

"Such smooth skin," she said huskily as she ran her fingers along the revealed flesh of his torso and chest. His eyes darkened to the colour of storm clouds, and he opened his mouth to hurl insults at her, but huffed out a breath of surprise when she began to kiss the path her hands had previously taken.

"Take your foul mouth off of my person!"

Next, she ran her tongue from the thin line of hair that began at his navel and ran all the up the center of his stomach and chest. Her eyes fixed on his face, she licked her way around his right nipple, and then his left. He gritted his teeth; he said nothing.

"Amazing. You _can_ be quiet," she chuckled. "Well, we'll see what kinds of things you say when I take your cock deep into my mouth."

"Don't you dare…"

"I _do_ dare," she replied saucily before she grabbed the waist of his trousers and yanked downwards.

He was not hard, but this did not deter Hermione. She'd done all types of men in her two years of this business, and to be honest, she preferred the reluctant ones like Lucius Malfoy. From the get-go, men like him refused to be co-operative. They fought their arousal tooth-and-nail to confirm some minute feeling of power within this game. However, Hermione was a master, and it usually wasn't long before she would have them crying out their release and lauding her abilities to their friends. So she was very confident that Lucius would be the same.

She wrapped the fingers of her left hand around him, and used her right hand to cup and fondle his balls. Moving her left hand up and down, she began to pump him but he remained defiantly flaccid. She locked gazes with him, smiling into his glare of hate.

"Tsk, tsk, I abhor defiance," and she bent her head and pressed her tongue flat and insistent against his balls.

The slight lift of his hips was noticeable, his hiss unmistakable.

She licked, nipped and sucked at his flesh, using her tongue to form the letters of the alphabet. She found he was particularly pleased with the letters C and O, and made sure to utilise them often. He refused to make any sounds, but she was aware of his rapid hardening and the way his thighs were tensed.

Smiling, she went in for the kill. She took his balls entirely into her mouth and began to suck them, and then she hummed. He groaned, long and low before he panted out:

"Stop…that! Take your…your…filthy, Mudblood…mouth…"

She released his balls and dragged her tongue languidly from the hilt of his fully hardened cock all the way up to the head. In lazy circles, she smoothed her tongue over the head, sucking hard every few seconds. With every sharp suck and every quick lick on the underside of the head, his hips bucked and he grunted a little.

"I…demand you…"

"I demand you keep quiet and enjoy it," she retorted. "I demand you watch me, Lucius, watch me while I take you into my wet, filthy mouth."

Locking her gaze with his once more, she positioned her mouth over him and slowly, sweetly sucked downward. She took him all the way to the base, another trick she'd been forced to learn the hard way. He part hissed, part groaned, his thighs straining against the bonds.

"Gods, witch…that mouth of yours…"

And what a mouth it was. The wet heat of it drove Lucius almost insane with pleasure as she bobbed her head up and down, sucking him, pumping him with her hand. With each downward thrust of her mouth, he felt his orgasm nearing, and as if she knew, she began to suck harder, humming against him, the vibrations an added push over the edge. But just as he was about to come, she suddenly released him from her mouth to lick and nibble at his balls again.

He exhaled in a huff of frustration, and said in a strained voice, "Woman, what are you doing?"

"Stalling," she replied simply before she began sucking lightly on the tip of his cock again. Her tongue drove him to distraction but he forged ahead.

"When will you…continue?"

"In about…now," and she sucked him whole again, her suddenness eliciting from him a hiss of surprise and pleasure. She squelched the insides of her cheeks tight against him, and began to suck him hard and fast, her tongue smoothing along the underside of his cock, and then she hummed. Thighs tensed, balls tightening, eyes squeezed shut, moaning hard and low, he came explosively into her mouth, a momentary flash of white behind his eyelids. She continued to suck him, even as he spurted come into her mouth, stopping only when it was obvious he was spent.

Cracking his eyes open, he watched her swallow it all down, and then a vixen smile usurped her face.

"We're not finished yet."

She grabbed the edge of her camisole, lifted it up and over her head, and threw it aside. There she knelt in all her glorious nakedness. Her breasts were high and perky, her nipples hard and begging for attention. Her slim waist widened into curvy hips, and her sex was hairless; clean shaven.

Lucius felt himself hardening again. Where had this witch been hiding? How could he have overlooked such beauty? If only she wasn't a Mudblood, no doubt his clouded gaze would've fallen away eons ago to reveal the exquisiteness of Hermione Granger. It was really a shame such physical attractiveness had been wasted on the likes of her. However, Mudblood she may be, he just could not deny his arousal to this woman, this creature who had, indeed, made him see heaven.

"Release me," he said huskily.

"No, I will not," she replied teasingly. "I like to watch you come undone under my ministrations."

She curled her hand around him once more, testing his firmness, and smiled when she found it satisfactory. Positioning herself over him, she sank slowly onto him, moaning softly at the feel of him. _Merlin, he feels_ _good_ , she thought. He filled her completely and left no room for complaint. She squeezed her inner walls experimentally and smirked at his little groan.

Planting her palms behind her, she arched her back and began to ride him slowly. She enjoyed the way he felt deep within her, his cock hard and stroking her in the right place, eliciting frissons of pleasure coursing through her blood. When she couldn't take slow anymore, she bent forwards, hovering over him to ride him hard.

Their gazes met yet again.

"Release me."

"No."

His eyes blazed with lust. "Release me!" He bucked his hips upward, and Hermione cried out from the sweet pleasure.

"Finite!"

His hands were on her hips immediately, squeezing them, bruising them from the strength of his hold as he slammed into her hard with each forceful upward thrust. Her moans reverberated in the room as she gyrated her hips, grinding them against him. Her inner walls, hot and slick, sucked him up and drove him crazy just like her mouth. With a growl, he rolled her over onto her back, pinned both of her wrists with his hand, and began driving himself harder, faster and deeper as she begged.

She could feel the familiar tension building, a tension she'd long forgotten had ever existed. Even though she worked in the sex business, she'd yet to achieve satisfaction. The men that visited her were usually selfish and sought their own release. She'd known it would be different with Lucius Malfoy, and she was glad she was right.

"Merlin, I'm so close…so close…"

He bent his head and claimed a breast with his hot mouth and sucked hard at the nipple. The tension building within Hermione skyrocketed to its peak, and she found herself falling in the ecstasy of her climax, moaning Lucius' name as her walls clenched sporadically around him still moving deep within her. Triggered by her climax, Lucius came a second time, grunting out his pleasure around her breast.

Energy depleted, his weight sagged sideways onto the bed. Eventually, once his breathing had steadied, Lucius climbed off of the bed and performed a cleansing spell on himself. With magic, he redressed himself and smoothed his hair back into its usual ponytail. When he was finished, he turned to look at Hermione, his features unreadable.

"Thank you," he said stiffly.

"You're welcome," Hermione replied, a sly smile on her face.

He turned away and made for the door, but then turned around to face her again, looking uncomfortable and unsure.

"Will I…is it possible to see you again?"

She sat up, uncaring of her nakedness, and fully aware of Lucius' persistent gaze on her exposed breasts.

"Do you still find me ugly, Mr. Malfoy?"

"No."

"Did you see heaven?"

He smirked. "Yes."

"Am I still good-for-nothing?"

"No."

"Then what am I good for?"

Lust ablaze once more in his eyes, his gaze travelled down her body to reconnect with hers meaningfully.

"Me, witch. You're good enough for me."

* * *


End file.
